Tequila Sunrise
by Lorena Delphine
Summary: "Just like she clings to the structure of her restrictions, I think you crave the chaos. May you find an anchor to help you ride out the storm."


**_This is my first try, hope you like my humble attempt. I used a prompt to get me started. It asked me "What does the universe taste like?" I guess by the title and the first sentence of this O/S you can guess my answer. Hope you enjoy - oh heck, hope you don't hate it! -LD_**

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I remember most the haze of summertime on dirty pavement, cut off shorts, and tequila sunrises. That was the year that I started squeezing limes in my water. The year I'd let Alice, who dated a man fifteen years older than her, and didn't give a shit about anything she couldn't prove really mattered, drag me away from everything I'd ever known. She'd helped me take a deep breath of a life I'd never experienced, and to look around me to see that there was more to living than my mother's rules.

I'd taken a summer job renting snorkeling equipment on the beach. It was the kind of brainless job I craved. I wasn't looking for anything more than some cash that could fund my daily life and this was the kind of job that allowed me the freedom to do whatever I wanted when there weren't any customers. Typically, I wasted time taking advantage of my data plan on my cell phone and reading free trashy stories online.

It was a particularly wild time in my life. I had moved four hours away from my religious mother and step-father and had chipped in on a beach house with Alice in Rosalie on our summer break from college. They'd given me a kick-ass belated twenty-first birthday party in May and I'd taken my first drink – a tequila sunrise. I had lost my virginity a few weeks later after a few more of that particular cocktail and was exploring my newfound promiscuity. I felt truly alive for the first time in my life. I didn't have a life plan, wasn't held accountable, and no one was judging me for anything – it was so different than the life I had led before. My mother had vowed not to speak to me until I was willing to turn back from my heathen ways, and I was more than okay with that. There was nothing I needed more than the absence of her commentary at that moment in my life.

I welcomed June and the even hotter weather like a cleansing fire. I was at work bright and early, flipping the plastic sign on the door to open and slurping lime-infused water from my purple thermos. At 9 a.m. it was sticky hot already and all I had in the snorkel shack was an industrialized floor fan to circulate the air. I was already planning to take advantage of the complimentary pool access the hotel offered as an employment perk once my shift was over.

I twisted the tangled hair off my sweaty neck and sighed, flipping through the surfing equipment magazine that stayed on the counter. I'd flipped through it probably seven dozen times, but it was there, and I was waiting for the early morning rush. No need to get involved in anything I would have a problem putting down at this hour. I kept busy renting snorkel gear, boat expeditions, and underwater cameras all morning. At noon on the dot, I set the "be back" sign to 12:30 and shut the door to have my uninteresting ham sandwich in peace. Today was hot, even for June in Florida, and I'd been alternating been fantasies of jumping in the pool to walking into a well-air conditioned room. I hadn't decided which I wanted more.

When a rap at the door interrupted me, I felt a twinge of annoyance, but relaxed as soon as I realized it wasn't a customer. It was only Edward – he typically led the snorkel expeditions.

"Hey?" I said questioningly as I opened the door.

"Hey, don't sell any more expeditions for today. Something's wrong with Emmett's boat. We'll probably not get back up this afternoon. We've already transferred the guys that have afternoon reservations to the Holiday Inn's boats."

"Ok."

"Leave a note on the door for anyone else wanting to go out to go next door, too. You can go on home."

"Oh okay. Any idea what happened to the boat?" I asked as I dug around under the counter for a pen and paper.

"Nope. I'm just the beach bum snorkel dude, remember?"

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. I liked Edward. He was always a nice guy to me and it was easy to chat with him. It didn't hurt that he was gorgeous. His tan was so dark it made the hair on his body look blonde and he had thick muscles that drew my eyes when he moved his arms. But on top of that, there was a kindness in his grey-green eyes, and I was the type of person who noticed that sort of thing.

"What are you going to do with the rest of your extremely free day now that you have one?" he asked, watching me tape the sign to the door.

"Um, the pool is looking pretty tempting to be honest. I may go snag some sunscreen from the car and try to cool off."

"My bro lives in the trailer park across the street. You want to come and swim with us?"

I thought about it for minute. I liked Edward but I literally didn't know any of his friends or anything. It would beat swimming alone though.

"You'll have to entertain me if I come; since I won't know anyone."

"Naturally," he shrugged.

"There will be other girls there?"

"I'm sure. It's a community pool and everything, too," he reminded me.

I said that I would and followed his car out of the parking lot. On the way, I called Alice.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm going swimming in Trace park."

"With who?" she asked skeptically.

"A guy from work – Edward."

"The snorkel instructor?" Alice worked at the hotel. She vaguely knew everyone there simply because she remembered things and people when a normal person would have forgotten.

"Yep. The boat broke down so we had to close for the afternoon and he invited me."

"All right, do ya thing."

I snickered and rolled my eyes. "Call me later and check on me."

"Always." There'd already been a few times this summer that I'd drank too much and needed her to come get me. Alice was really cool about it, though. She knew I was just trying to figure things out. It wasn't an easy thing to just relieve all of the life-long pressure my mother had put on me to do and act a certain way. I was just trying to decide who and what I was living for – and there wasn't a tidy answer to that question for me right then.

The afternoon swimming with Edward and his friends had been fun. Someone grilled, drinks were mixed, beer was cold, and I got to know Edward and Emmett a bit better.

Emmett was your typical boat guy – he loved his boat and talked about his job like he should be paying someone to let him do it. He was funny and friendly, and was polite enough to look away when I caught him checking my boobs and raised a brow.

"What do you think?" Edward said a couple of hours later, finding me nearly asleep beneath an umbrella. "Have a good time?"

"Yeah definitely," I answered sleepily, raising up on my elbows.

"You gonna be ok to drive when the time comes?"

"Yeah, I didn't have much. "

"Damn," he smirked. "I was hoping I'd get to drive you home."

I couldn't help but smile. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," he sighed dramatically. "I guess I'm going to just ask for your number."

"And what exactly would you need my number for?"

He balked but quickly recovered. "Oh, I don't know…emergencies. I need someone they can call if my snorkel fills with water and I almost drown."

I laughed, but stopped short when I saw his smile. He was a handsome man, there was no question of that. But something about the look in his light green eyes made my heart stutter like a few beats were tumbling over one another. Unsolicited, my mind wondered what it would be like to have him touch me. Ever since my v-card had been punched, my thoughts were constantly drifting to sex. Edward's eyes made me think about his hands on me and the slide of sunscreen greased skin pressing together. A wave of heat rushed through my body and I struggled to keep my expression natural.

"Okay," I breathed. "I wouldn't want you to be beached with the paramedics strapping you to a gurney and not have someone to come and let them know you said 'do not resuscitate.'"

"Hey!" he laughed, standing up when I did to watch me gather my things. I slipped on my clothes quick and let him follow me to the car.

I reached in the console for a napkin and wrote my number on it. When I turned around he was right behind me and my eyes locked with his. He dropped them to my lips, and I couldn't breathe. I swallowed so forcefully it sounded like a gulp.

Before I could blink his lips had crushed to mine. It seemed quick, but we'd both been drinking all afternoon – inhibitions were weaker when the sun glowed tangerine over the ocean horizon. I exhaled into his mouth as his tongue collided with mine. His taste was exotic, like spiced fruit, and my whole body was coming to life as his lips tugged at mine. I felt drunker than I had all day when he pulled away and searched my eyes.

"Here," I said lamely, thrusting the napkin at him. It broke the spell and he stepped back, holding the paper to his chest, swallowing thickly, too.

"Don't go," he said as I silently turned to get into my car. "Let's go for a ride."

I looked at him questioningly.

"I'm not ready to call it a day yet," he shrugged.

I gave in, because I was still enamored with the pleasure of being wanted. It was new, and I was new – and I found myself learning what a heady feeling it was to give in to attraction when it happened and not fight it like it was something hideaway deep inside of me. I followed him to his car instead, knowing that he'd probably try to have sex later and that I would probably would let him. No wasn't something I was saying much of to anything lately. What felt good was what I did – and Edward wanting me to stay with him felt really good.

Edward's car was older, the kind of car you had to manually roll the windows down. The roof lining, I could see, had been staple-gunned back up, though some pillows of fabric still bubbled in places. It had the smell of boy and black electrical tape – which had been used for various touch ups and repairs. We rode down to the pier and sat in the parking lot to watch the sun set before driving down the beach to grab hotdogs at Vienna's. At mid June, the strip was in full swing with people that had stolen a week out of their lives to sponge up the lifestyle we gluttonously basked in all summer. We were seated at a picnic table lit only from the windows of the hotdog stand and neon lights from the Ferris Wheel behind it. We playfully took turns stealing French fries from one another's baskets.

"Where do you live?" I asked him when we were out of sunsets and fry baskets to change the subject. We'd been intermittently making out in his car at every stop along the way, and my body was more than ready for something to happen if it was going to.

"You want to go to my house?" he replied as though incredulous.

"Don't be coy," I answered, turning to look out at the now dark ocean. "It's not an attractive quality."

A wry smile was his only response. A moment later he was on his feet and leading me back to his car. We drove back to his place, a little two room house down the beach that he shared with a roommate who wasn't home. My grand tour consisted of his pointing to the kitchen, living room, bathroom, and pushing me toward his bedroom.

I willingly allowed myself to be guided inside and pushed up against his bedroom door when it was closed. I'd had a few lovers in the past few weeks, but this was the first time since the first time that I felt out of my element. Edward made me feel like I was doing something else new entirely, and he brought a whole foray of new sensations out of me when his fingers traveled along the curves of my body. I buzzed alive; I was electric. In his arms I was Aphrodite –sensual, brazen, and irresistible. I gasped the pads of his fingers connected with my skin; dry and clammy from sunscreen and chlorine. He smelled like sand and sweat and when I inhaled against his neck my body fluttered with the touch of his tongue against my shoulder. I pulled at his shirt and it was soon joined by mine on the floor.

"I want you," he rasped, making me buzz with energy. I ran my fingers roughly over his nipples, and he turned and pulled me toward his unmade bed. The cool sheets felt good against my too-warm skin. I let him undress me the rest of the way before I took my feet and pushed off his swimming shorts. Skin to skin with Edward was nothing like I'd ever felt. There was no fumbling, and he didn't push himself into me immediately like I'd expected. I was so used to these encounters being more about me sowing my oats and letting my random lovers take what they wanted. I did enjoy that power – but this was something different. Everything he did was different. He touched me – gently. I closed my eyes and allowed him to stroke my slick clit with his fingers – surprised at how light and firm he could stroke at once.

I was floating and climbing and burning and I'd never given of myself so openly. The way I had allowed my legs to fall open was nothing short of wanton. I'd never surrendered so completely, and when his mouth replaced his fingers, I feared for my ability to keep from hyperventilating I was breathing so hard.

I came with such a crashing blow, my shoulder blades lifted away from the sheets, grasping at his hair, at anything to anchor myself against him. He slid up my body taking each of my nipples in his mouth as he settled between my legs.

"I just died," I muttered deliriously and he laughed low in his throat.

"You taste like nectarines."

"Inside me," was the only reply I had.

I heard the tearing of a condom and his body was back against and between mine. I could feel my softness already yielding against his harder flesh, and my heart thudded almost painfully in my chest. I felt myself burning and pink all over as he buried himself into me, fucking me so…so good that I loathed the rubber he wore for whatever secrets it kept from us.

He came with a shout and we both slumped so tired against each other, gasping for breath and sliding apart to relish the coolness of his ceiling fan. I reeled privately, in my mind taking so much from this experience – so much more than just what my body took from his. I almost didn't register it when he stood from the bed and excused himself to go to the bathroom. Taking that as my usual cue, I got up and began gathering my clothes, imagining that he would call a taxi for me before coming back.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly, sitting back on the bed.

"Getting ready to go."

"No, stay. Please?"

I smiled kindly and sat back down next to him in my t-shirt and bikini bottoms.

He kissed me again. "I really like you."

I believed him because something about Edward gave away that he wasn't full of shit like so many boys on the beach. "I like you, too."

"Tell the friend you've been texting all night that I'll bring you back to your car in the morning."

"Ok," I replied, a little bashfully, as I dug my phone out and texted Alice.

The morning came butter yellow through the blinds of Edward's bedroom window. Quietly, we got up and dressed and he held my hand the whole drive back to my car. I knew that it wasn't going to be awkward between Edward and I at work. Everything about him put me at ease. Nothing about his body language or his tone insinuated that I had just let him fuck me after only a day together. Anyone that was paying attention to us would have thought he was being the perfect gentleman after a brunch date. I let him kiss me goodbye before crawling into my car.

"See you at work!" I called, turning the ignition.

"I've got your number," he said, climbing into his car and driving off.

"Oh right," I said, rolling my eyes and heading back home. No part of me ever expected him to call.

The next day found me back at work, in front of my industrial fan, flipping through the same magazine. Alice had playfully called me a whore when I told her what had happened after we left the pool and I had decided there was something a little bit thrilling and freeing about that title. As though, by doing something to be labeled slutty had unlocked a secret to the universe. Like I had successfully shed a skin I'd never really wanted to wear. At noon, my phone went off.

**Want company for lunch? **

My eyebrows scrunched.

**Who is this?**

**Edward.**

My surprise was palpable as I typed my answer.

**Sure. **

He knocked on the door not more than a second later.

"You were in the neighborhood," I said stating the obvious.

"I walked this way hoping you wouldn't mind my joining you."

"I don't," I replied toasting the air with my sandwich. "You know, I sort of expected you to lose my number."

"Why's that?"

I shrugged, embarrassed that he wouldn't just take the bait of what I was insinuating. "Because I slept with you already?" I answered, looking away.

"And because you did that, our culture dictates that you're no longer worth my time, right?"

I shrugged again.

"Bella, don't make a habit of accepting less than you deserve. You just might get it."

"What do I deserve?"

"You tell me," he answered, kissing my lips light and firm enough to remind me of what had already passed between us.

"I'm glad you came for lunch," was all I could manage.

His eyes searched mine, and I felt my irises yield, opening a window of vulnerability that I'd kept under iron locks for so, so long.

"Like I said, I like you," he said gently, and we let our lips take up what was left of our lunch break.

We ate, chatting companionably, nearly every day I worked for the next two months. We also managed to have sex nearly everywhere one could imagine in that time. Edward had an effect on me that I'd never had with anyone else. I became so attuned to everything he said and felt about anything. I studied him constantly – the way he moved his hands, the way he swallowed, his smile, how his jaw worked when he was thinking how to say something. I was infatuated and it scared the shit out of me.

We never put a label on what was happening between us. For me, I had been surprised that our first encounter, as rushed as it was, had had the potential to blossom into anything. But like every year, summer came to an end, and we found ourselves grasping at what was left of our time together.

"Tell me about your mother," he said quietly that evening. We'd been lazing in the shade of an afternoon sun on the sand for hours, talking about very little, enjoying the quiet that seemed so deliciously poignant between us as our time ran out.

"What's there to say that hasn't been said?" I sighed, licking my lips. "I have never been able to understand her in any way that makes me feel like I know what motivates her. My theory is that she needs the structure her beliefs give her to keep herself together, but I honestly don't know. All I know is that I didn't measure up to her expectations. It just felt so good to finally break free of that. I've taken so much pleasure in defying her strictures."

"Is that what all of this has been about? Defying her?" he asked, but his voice sounded strange.

I stopped short. "I don't know. I think I just got really weary of holding back in this life for the promise of something better. I wanted to live. I wanted life to feel good."

"Touching you feels good."

I smiled. "Touching always feels good."

"But what about the rest of it?"

"Of what?" I yawned, getting sleepy.

"Of this summer, of us? Of the guys before me? Is it the same thing? Just pissing of your mom?"

I shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. The other guys were, definitely. You were too, I guess, to begin with. But you and I were more, surely you know that?"

"But what's going to happen now that you're leaving?"

"What do you want to happen?"

"Come on, Bella, don't be a coward. Tell me the truth."

"I care about you. I mean I just can spend hours watching you be…you. You've taught me how to respect myself and so many other things," I answer, deciding he probably didn't want to hear about how he'd taught me that sex could be more than sex. It wasn't that kind of conversation.

"I'm in love with you," he said grimly, looking out at the waves crushing themselves against the beach mercilessly.

I looked down at my hands, nervous. "I know." I answered softly.

"But you're not in love with me," he sneered.

"I mean I just always knew that I'd have to go back to school in the fall."

The quiet between us seemed to gape like a wound then. It tore between us like a knife, beginning to sever all the nerve endings we had so carefully knit together with our open hearts.

He was rolled on me so quickly I didn't have time to react, lips capturing mine, the palms of his hands against my cheeks. A wave of a familiar ache and longing came over me and I clung to him. I did nothing but yield to him as he pushed my bathing suit bottoms to the side and felt for the wetness that was always present when we were together. He did nothing but ready me as dusk fell around us and he pushed inside. "Remember this," he grunted, filling me velvet and persistent. "Remember how this felt and how you let this go."

I felt like crying but I didn't as he came roughly and pulled away from me. I lay back dazed as he straightened our clothing. One last kiss he gave me, resting his forehead against mine, and closed his eyes. "I loved you, Bella."

"You don't know how much you've meant to me," I answered lamely, knowing it wasn't enough to stay him.

Then he was leaving, grabbing his sunglasses and keys, and I was watching him in technicolored darkness as he walked away from me; from us.

I brushed sand from between my breasts, and brought my knees to my chin. This whole summer had been one like I had never experienced, and it had all begun with a tequila sunrise. Two parts tequila, orange juice, and a dash or two of grenadine, it was definitely one of the sweetest drinks I had ever tasted. Sometimes too sweet – too much too soon. My stomach felt sick, and I wondered if I had finally gone too far. A hint of bitters always adds a twist, but too much and it can ruin the whole concoction.

I noticed Edward had left his t-shirt lying next to me. I slipped it over my head inhaling the scent of his aftershave and watched the sun as it was swallowed by the watery abyss.

Eventually, I grabbed my things and went back to my car that had been packed with my belongings since early that morning. It was a four hour drive to Jacksonville and the road had already gone dark. In a little while I got a text. I couldn't help but read it when I saw that it was from Edward.

**I think you're more like your mother than you realize. Just like she clings to the structure of her restrictions, I think you crave the chaos. May you find an anchor to help you ride out the storm. **

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**_Thanks for taking the time to read! xoxo LD_  
**


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